


All the President's Men (And Women, Too)

by niesbixby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background Het, Bodyguard, Bucky is a Secret Service Agent, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Kind of fluffy, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, Pre-Slash, References to Canon, Slash, Some death, Steve is the President's son, What Is Wrong With ME, Why Did I Write This?, falling off things, i really did try, it's actually kind of funny this time, yeah so language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2608859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niesbixby/pseuds/niesbixby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is the Secret Service agent tasked with guarding the President's troublesome son, Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the President's Men (And Women, Too)

“You know,” Bucky says, looking down at his charge, “one of these days I’m going to be too busy looking in closets for you to realize that you’ve actually been kidnapped by someone.”

Steve looks down from the bottom of the well he’s somehow managed to wedge himself into. “What, like I’m not allowed to have a little privacy?” he asks.

Bucky gestures at him. “If this is what happens, then no.”

Steve scoffs. “Come on, Barnes. I’m the President’s only kid. The press hounds me day and night. You telling me you wouldn’t try to get away from the pressure?”

He tilts his head. “No, but I’d do it more effectively.”

Transcript from the log of James Barnes

2200 hours. I had to help the kid out of a well on the Monticello property at the President’s second gala. He went out for fresh air and fell down into the well. Action required twenty feet of rope and the sacrifice of Wilson’s good climbing gear. Will pay him back with next paycheck.

The kid is fine; no one noticed he was gone. Good thing I found him or it would be on my head.

***  
“What are you doing?” Bucky asks exasperatedly, staring at Steve.

“I,” Steve says, biting into a cream puff with unruffled dignity, "am having a picnic.”

“By yourself?” he points out.

“Well, no. You’re here, aren’t you?”

Bucky crouches next to him. “Yeah, but I’m your bodyguard. I’m not paid to have picnics with the President’s kid.” He picks up a plum tart and bites into it with relish. “Damn, this is good.”

“Mm,” Steve agrees through a mouthful of cream puff. “I know. Clint is such a good cook. But he’s going to freak if we don’t eat like, 80% of this stuff.”

Bucky looks at the sprawl of food over the lawn. Clint has really outdone himself this time. He settles in, trying to convince himself that it’s a tactical maneuver, that he’ll be better able to keep an eye out from this position without being seen. “We’d better get started, then, sir.”

“Steve.”

“Definitely not, sir.”

The first time Steve storms out of his father’s office looking as if he wants to shoot something, Bucky is a little startled. Steve is usually so calm and level headed, except in politics.

Oh.

The realization of what happened slams into him like a ton of bricks. The President is a conservative. Steve is unbelievably liberal.

Oh……

Bucky falls into step with him and pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. Steve flinches, and he retracts his hand. “This is stupid,” he says. “We’re going to a shooting range.”

So apparently seeing Steve shooting things is a lot more attractive than he’d anticipated it would be. “Bad idea, really bad idea,” he chastises himself, then returns his attention to Steve. Kid could shoot himself in the foot if he’s not careful.

But Steve is letting off rounds with a grim determination that makes Bucky wonder what or who he’s picturing instead of the target. Steve flips a switch and the target comes flying forwards. It’s peppered with holes from all over, from the center to the very edge of the outer rings.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says. “I think you killed it.”

Steve is breathing hard and his eyes are wide. He lowers the gun and swallows. “Thanks,” he says.

Transcript from the log of James Barnes

Took the kid to a shooting range today after an argument with the POTUS. Checked in with owner first and cleared the place. Seemed to be therapeutic. Maybe return?

***  
He gets the call around 1400 hours in the middle of a press conference. He’s been expecting it for some time now.

Bucky’s phone buzzes quietly in the middle of the President’s speech and he blanches when he sees the caller ID. He stands quietly, ignoring Steve’s look of alarm, and pulls Natasha aside.

“Keep an eye on him,” Bucky murmurs. She nods, and he heads out the side door, keeping the phone pressed to his ear.  
Obituary from the New York Times

Rebecca Miller, aged 32, lost a long battle with cancer Tuesday night at 6:02 pm. She was described by her friends as being cheerful and positive to the last, never letting her illness get her down.

She leaves behind a husband, Isaac Miller, two children, Lucas and Ellie, her parents, Adam and Emily, and a brother, James.

Funeral services will be held at the New Haven Protestant Church in New Haven, Connecticut this Saturday at noon. The family asks that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to Children’s Center for the Blind, in New Jersey.  
***  
Voicemail of James Barnes

Natasha: James, are you there? You haven’t been in to work for a few days, and we’re all starting to worry. This isn’t like you at all. You should really come back. Steve’s starting to get edgy.

Anyway, I’ll try you again later, so don’t do anything stupid.  
***  
Logbook of James Barnes

Funeral today. Wore my best suit. Preacher didn’t know Rebecca, and it showed. Mom cried. Dad didn’t.

I wasn’t even there, not really.  
***  
He’s not ready to go back, he knows, but they need him with big events coming up and they’re short staffed already and Natasha’s been blowing up his voicemail begging him in her passive aggressive way to come in.

So that’s how he finds himself putting on a suit and going to work. Natasha meets him at the door and studies him.

“Wow,” she says. “You look like crap. Go wash your face or something. She receives a harsh laugh in return.

“Where do you want me?”

Natasha shrugs. “Where you usually are. Free up Loki. He’s new, so be nice to him.” She pauses. “And would you try to cheer up the kid? Been a rough few days for everyone.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s the new guy’s handle?” Natasha tosses him his headset, which he catches with ease.  
“Trickster Kind,” Nat grins. “Good to see you, Barnes. Have fun.” Then she heads to her post, leaving Bucky alone.

“Just great,” he mutters, then starts talking into the headset, heading for the end of the hall. “Trickster King, come in please.”

Static crackles on the other end. “Copy that. Who is this?”

“Winter Soldier. Where are you? Nat told me you’ve got Little Eagle.” He pauses. “Black Widow, that is.”

“West Wing. Outside the Oval Office,” Loki says, and Bucky groans. Just what he needs right now. Steve’s aggression issues are really starting to annoy the crap out of him.

“On my way. Over and out.”

When Bucky arrives outside the Oval Office, he’s been hearing the shouting from around the corner. He winces, then notices the guy standing outside the door. The cut of his suit is pristine, and his dark hair is slicked back at his chin neatly in what Bucky’s almost sure isn’t a regulation haircut.

“Bucky Barnes,” he says. “Good to meet you. He extends a hand, which Bucky takes. “Loki Laufeyson.”

Bucky nods, then points towards the door. “Pleasure. How long has this been going on?” he asks.

Loki looks uncomfortable. “A while. I wanted to go in, but…” he trails off. Bucky gets it. The President is an intimidating guy, especially when he’s shouting at you. Which he is. Quite frequently.

“Yeah, okay. You can go and do…whatever Natasha wants you to do.” Loki looks a little too pleased about that command, he notes. Well, that could end badly.

But Loki isn’t budging. “What are you going to do?”

Bucky sighs. “Something really stupid that’ll probably get me fired.” The other man looks inordinately pleased.

“I think I’ll stick around,” Loki says, grinning like an idiot.

“You’re not nervous?”

“To quote Hamlet, Act 3 Scene Four, line 92, no.”  
Bucky sighs again and braces himself. He could so get fired for this. He pulls the door open and sticks his head in, taking in the scene. Steve is shouting at his father, his small frame looking distinctly dwarf like in comparison. “He’s a distraction, dad, and everyone knows it, only you’re too busy with your Syrian conflict to actually give a shit!”

“Sir?” Bucky says, and they both turn to look at him. “Your son is needed at the moment. If I may?”

The President nods, and Bucky escorts Steve out of the room. They nearly run over Loki, who’s been listening at the door. “Get out of here,” Bucky says, and Loki gives him a mocking salute before leaving. 

Steve tears his arm away and turns to face Bucky. “Where the hell have you been?” he demands. It’s been a week and I’ve been shuffled from agent to agent like a twisted game of Hot Potato.”

Bucky shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “I had a personal issue come up, sir,” he explains quietly.

Steve’s gaze softens slightly. “And how many more times am I going to have to tell you to call me Steve?”

He smiles to himself halfheartedly. This he can respond to. This is routine. “At least once more, sir.”

Transcript from the logbook of James Barnes

Some kind of train christening ceremony that requires Steve’s presence is happening now. Sounds bogus is you ask me, but then, no one does. Ever. 

So of course I’ll have to be there as well. And it’s in Norfolk. I hate Norfolk.

This is going to be just great.  
***  
So the first murder attempt happens a lot sooner than Bucky had expected. Make no mistake, he’d expected an attempt, but this borders on the ridiculous. They’re sitting in a gazebo on the lawn when it happens.

“You know,” Steve says, “you really need to loosen up, Agent. Do you actually have a first name?”

“Um...yeah. It’s Bucky,” he says, trying to listen. Was that a rustle?

 

“What kind of name is-”

“Shh!”

“Don’t you shush me!”

“Shut up!” Bucky hisses.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about, Barnes. Loosen the hell up.” That’s when the gunshot rings out. Fortunately for the two of them, Bucky’s body has always been a hell of a lot faster than his brain and before he has time to think he’s tackling Steve to the ground while pulling his gun out and firing a shot in the direction of the bullet.

They hit the ground with a thud and he hears a groan from the bushes. But that doesn’t matter because holy shit, he just tackled the President’s son and there’s got to be some kind of rule against this and shit doesn’t Steve have a ton of medical conditions or something?

He gets off Steve and looks down at him and crap, he’s breathing way too fast and definitely not deeply enough and his eyes are about the size of saucers. “Steve?” he says. “Okay, look at me, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes lock onto his as Bucky hauls him to a more defensible position, by one of the benches. I need you to breathe with me, okay?” He nods. “Okay. In...out. In...out.” This isn’t working, he can tell. So he does the only thing he can do. Bucky grabs Steve’s hand and puts it on his chest so he can feels it rise and fall. His breath hitches, and Steve turns red, but his breathing slows quickly.

As soon as Bucky’s reasonably sure Steve isn’t going to pass out, he starts talking into his earpiece. “Nat,” he says. “I need you out here, now, with whoever else isn’t busy. Copy?”

After a few seconds, “Yeah. Where are you?”

“Gazebo. Someone tried to kill Steve.” Then he tries to get up, but Steve has a pretty tight grip on his wrist. “What’s up?” he says, as calmly as he can manage. 

“Don’t leave me here alone,” he says, and Bucky is reminded of how young Steve is. Christ. He’s practically a child.

“Hey,” Bucky replies. “I’m with you to the end of the line.”  
***  
Norfolk comes a lot sooner than he’d anticipated. Security wise, the place is a nightmare. Huge crowds, and Bucky has to stay twenty feet back because of the press. How the hell is he supposed to protect someone from twenty feet away?

Steve is standing next to the train, performing some kind of ceremony when the door opens and a beefy guy drags him inside. Someone screams. The world comes screeching to a halt and then Bucky’s sprinting forward and jumping onto the train. He winces. He peers through the door and holy hell, this is a tactical nightmare. It’s a cargo train, filled to the brim with lumber.

The hatch is open, and he can hear footsteps pounding away and Steve protesting loudly, as usual. So Bucky climbs the pile of wood and up through the hatch, hanging tightly to the edges of the train.

The guy is already a car away, with Steve slung over one shoulder. So he has to run along the car. He stops right in front of the gap and hesitates. That’s a long way. He could definitely get killed doing this. But he steels his courage and leaps across. 

The man stops and sets Steve down, now nursing a black eye. Steve gets as low as he can. So he’s actually not an idiot about everything. Wow. What a surprise.

Bucky races forward and rams into the guy, making sure to dig an elbow into his stomach. The man groans, and Bucky bares his teeth in a feral grin. Steve tries to get in closer, maybe to help, but Bucky snaps at him. “Get the hell back!” He blocks a punch and glances over. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Steve replies, and that’s when things start going against him. The man takes advantage of his momentary distraction to land a punch to his stomach, sending him staggering backwards. He trips over a ridge and ends up flat on his back, and is trying to get up when the man kicks him in the ribs and sends him flying nearly off the car. Bucky looks down. There is a river below them and he’s fairly certain he’s going to die if he falls so he clings even tighter to the side. The man stands over him, raising a foot above his hands.

“Steve-” he says, and then he’s falling, falling, falling, towards the cold water below. Bucky can’t control the scream that rips itself from his lungs.

The water is colder than he’d anticipated, but the drop is a lot shorter, which explains why he’s not actually dead even though Bucky’s fairly sure he technically should be dead. He lands in a cloud of bubbles, momentarily stunned. The current is stronger than he’d anticipated and his suit is weighing him down. 

And suddenly he is so unbelievably tired. He’s been through hell. Seriously. Jumping onto a moving train? Falling off said moving train into a river? And his sister... The water’s so peaceful. Like a feather bed. Maybe it’d be easier just to go to sleep. 

No. 

No, he’s got to get out, he’s got to get back to Steve.

The train only goes as far as the next stop, a tiny town ten miles to the north. So as soon as Bucky gets out of the water, he flags down a car on the nearby road and hitches a ride that far. 

Once Bucky gets there, he makes his way to the train station and asks around if anyone has seen the two of them. Bucky receives an affirmative that leads him to an old warehouse about a quarter mile away.

He’s seriously starting to doubt the professionalism of this whole operation.

So that’s how finds himself entering the lair of a potentially hostile enemy in a soaking wet suit and armed with only a handgun. Thank god for the waterproof case Tony made.

If he doesn’t die, he’s so getting fired for this.

But he opens the door silently and sneaks in, trying not to give himself away. It takes a second or two to adjust to the relative gloom. Bucky ducks behind a crate and listens to the ongoing conversation that has oh so conveniently masked his entrance.

The guy from the train is there, as is Steve. Who is curled up in a corner, wrists tied in front of him.

“Agent Barnes is dead,” he says. “Give it up.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve replies, and Bucky’s heart drops into his stomach. “I’m an important person. Someone’s bound to come looking for me.”

“They’re never going to find you,” the guy gloats. “And even if they do, they’d never get out of here alive.”

“You’re only one person,” Steve points out and God, Bucky could kiss him, because now he knows how many people he’s up against. “And they’re the entire Secret Service.”

The man snorts. “I did a pretty good job when I dumped that other guy into the river.” A warning note rings in his voice and Bucky winces. This could get pretty bad.

“Honestly, I’d just turn myself in now and save them the trouble,” Steve says confidently and he hears a smack of flesh on flesh.

Oh, he did not.

Bucky stands up from where he’s crouching and claps sarcastically, whistling and cheering. “Good job! Just, really great work. You do realize you’re not actually a villain from a bad 80’s movie?”

They stare at him in utter silence. Steve is goggling, actually goggling at him. “Bucky?” he says in a strangled voice.

“Um, yeah.” He grimaces. “Long story short, not dead.” Then he does a double take. Dark bruises bloom across Steve’s face and blood drips from various wounds. Bucky’s expression hardens. “You talked back, didn’t you?”

“Who the hell are you?” the guy asks in disbelief.

He grins. “Don’t you remember? I’m the guy you threw off a moving train. And let me tell you, this has got to be the most pathetic kidnap attempt I’ve ever seen.” Bucky holds out his arms. “It’s fucking ridiculous. This was one of my favorite suits.”

Steve snickers. “Shut up. I’ll get to you in a minute.” he stops and Bucky continues his rant. “It’s the least professional job I’ve ever seen. You’re a quarter mile away from where you were last seen. You let everyone see your face. And really, who grabs someone from the back of a moving train?”

“Hey,” the guy protests, and Bucky holds up a hand to stop him.

“No. You don’t get to talk. You nearly killed the hostage, which every criminal with self respect knows not to do. I mean, I’m a professional here. You’ve got to at least make it a challenge for me.”

“Are you actually planning on doing something, or are you just going to stand there insulting him?” Steve asks, and he seems genuinely curious.

“And you! You could have died, talking like that. Honestly, does he look intelligent enough not to kill you if you start annoying him?”

The guy pulls a gun out of his coat and points it straight at Bucky. “Hands up!” he orders, but Bucky doesn’t move. He pulls the trigger. The bullet thuds into the center of his chest with no little amount of force.

Nothing happens.

Bucky is coolly unimpressed. “Dude. Bulletproof vest.” Then he pulls his own gun and shoots the guy between the eyes.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Did you just-” he gestures with bound hands at the body.

He shrugs, trying to downplay it. “Yeah, I kind of did. It’s a bit of a requirement for my job, you know.” Then Bucky unties him, checking for serious injuries. There are none, thank god, but he’s pretty sure the bruises aren’t going away for a while.

Bucky borrows Steve’s phone and calls Natasha, who is beyond relieved to hear that he’s not dead. As relieved as she gets, that is. Which is not much. But she promises to send someone to be there within half an hour.

So they sit in the warehouse, waiting, in complete and utter silence. Which, if he’s completely honest for once, is a little awkward.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve remarks, breaking the silence.

Is it weird that he’s a little relieved? “Sorry to disappoint.”

“You fell off a moving train. Into a freezing cold river. You should really be dead at this point if we’re honest.”

“If you’d prefer, I could go back and jump in again,” Bucky offers sarcastically. Where is this conversation going?

“No!” Steve looks a little shocked that he actually said that. “I wouldn’t- I- When I thought you were-” He swallows and seems to come to a decision. “The two hours I thought you were dead were the worst two hours of my life. It scared the shit out of my. And not because, you know, I’d been kidnapped.” Bucky stares at him. “What I’m trying to say-”

Is he trying to-”You talk too much,” Bucky says, and then he kisses him.

For one horrible moment, no reaction. And Bucky thinks he’s made a huge mistake and that he really is going to lose his job. But then Steve recovers and reciprocates with commendable enthusiasm. 

Which is when they notice Natasha and Loki standing in the door, in full blackout gear. “Well,” Natasha says, “you’ve been busy, James.”

Sam crows. “I knew it! Pay up, Tasha.” She passes him a twenty grudgingly and Loki holds out his hand, snapping at Sam.

“You bet on this?” Bucky asks out of sheer disbelief. Really?

“Knew you’d turn up eventually,” Loki remarks calmly. “I’ve been hearing quite a few interesting stories about you, Barnes.”

“But you do realize we’re eventually going to have to say something about this to my dad?” Steve asks, suddenly looking worried.

Transcript from the log of James Barnes

[Recorder on]

So we did have to tell the President what was going on. He was surprisingly okay with it. He actually looked kind of gleeful and muttered something to the effect of, “Now for those other agents, Laufeyson and Romanov.”

Shit. Has the President been playing matchmaker with the staff?

Steve: Bucky, stop playing with the tape recorder and come back to bed. I’m getting cold in here.

Bucky: [sighs] Yeah, sorry. I’m going back to bed now. Can’t leave the boyfriend alone for a second.

[End recording]

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> I have no idea about anything about guns or weaponry, so I am sorry. I am currently doing research to better educate myself about this stuff.
> 
> Also, there may or may not be a river in Norfolk, Virginia. If there is not, then there is in this AU.


End file.
